


Distracting

by GreenMeridian



Category: Chernobyl (TV 2019)
Genre: Boris is dealing with some issues, Don’t copy to another site, M/M, Valery is hung, Written and posted in one day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-07-08 18:22:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19874032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenMeridian/pseuds/GreenMeridian
Summary: When you’re stuck wearing whatever the army can spare, it doesn’t always fit correctly...





	Distracting

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the Ukrainian guy I’m crushing on and his unnecessarily tight trousers.

Boris couldn’t say exactly what he’d been expecting (not that he had been thinking about it), but it certainly wasn’t that. Valery’s unnecessarily tight fatigues were revealing to say the least, and they were revealing him to be, well... huge. Huge. There was no other word for it. Boris himself had had to wear trousers that left him feeling slightly on display, as well as pairs that were loose enough he didn’t quite trust his belt to keep them up. Such was the nature of having to rely on whatever clothing the army delivered for them. But surely Valery could have found something else to wear today! Anything would be better than this, it was obscene. And it was only morning too. He’d have to spend the whole day being around... but no matter, he could ignore it. Of course he was shocked, it was a perfectly normal reaction, and frankly anyone’s eyes would be drawn to it. But it didn’t matter. There was no reason to let it change how they interacted or how he got on with his work.

It did not take long before Boris was in desperate need of vodka. He was not the only one who had noticed, and he had heard some of the soldiers laughing about it, making bawdy jokes about how the Professor must have grown it in a lab experiment, or how the next space mission rocket was being developed in his trousers. He couldn’t really begrudge them their jokes, he was honestly happy they had high enough morale for it. And in his own days as a soldier, he’d seen others take part in such jokes about fellow comrades who were particularly impressive, or particularly unimpressive for that matter. Such was the nature of group showers and camaraderie in the face of death. Though not a particularly prudish man, he’d never felt especially comfortable taking part in such jokes himself. It always felt wrong, talking about another man’s equipment like that. It felt wrong even acknowledging it’s existence, quite frankly. He prided himself on his ability to keep his gaze strictly neck-up when surrounded by other men. And yet now, confronted with Valery’s ill-fitting trousers, he could barely look anywhere but his crotch. They were tight enough that he could practically make out the exact shape of the head of it, certainly tight enough that he could tell Valery’s balls were proportionally sized. Not that he cared, of course. It was just a sort of morbid curiosity, a fascination (well not ‘fascination’, that sounded far too strong) with the juxtaposition between Valery’s build and his demeanour, and the thing he’d apparently been walking around with all this time.

It was around the third hour of work he began wondering if Valery’s freckles went that far. Around hour five, he was wondering if the reddish-blond on Valery’s head could be found elsewhere on his body, if his chest was as thick with fur as Boris’ own, if the hair below his belly was the same colour. And around the ninth hour, he was wondering how much bigger it would get when erect. He was about ready to throw himself into the reactor.

Valery had spent the whole day seemingly oblivious to the show he was putting on. Though how that was possible, between the sniggering soldiers and the discomfort he surely must have been in, Boris didn’t know. Worse was when he sat, legs slightly together and pushing it all forward, the zip clearly digging into him. Surely he must feel it! Surely he must realise that the decent thing to do would be to put on a long jacket or coat to cover himself. Even Valery couldn’t possibly be this oblivious, this wrapped up in his work that he hasn’t realised that Boris could practically draw his cock from memory by now. Unless... was he doing this deliberately? Was he trying to unsettle Boris, was this some sort of power play? Look at me, I’m a pasty, awkward scientist with inch thick glasses, and my cock’s bigger than yours. I know you don’t like thinking about other men’s cocks, so here’s mine, so obviously huge that you can’t think about anything else. How dare he challenge Boris’ authority like this? Their working relationship had been good up until now, he would even have called them friends, and now, now Valery chooses to play this game? Well, Boris wasn’t going to be messed with. He was the alpha male here, he was in charge, and it’d take more than Valery’s foolish attempt at showing off to change that.

When the day finally drew to an end, Boris was exhausted. He had quite successfully avoided looking at Valery inappropriately for more than hour, and now he was debating whether or not to confront him. Though how does one man tell another that he’s been staring at his dick all day, thinking about it all day? He said nothing on the ride back to the hotel, nothing in the elevator, nothing when they went their separate ways. Valery seemed put out by the lack of response to his attempts to talk to Boris, and looked positively forlorn by the time they left the elevator, but Boris ignored the tug at his heart at the knowledge he was upsetting Valery. Valery was bringing this on himself, after all. And why should Boris care if the man’s eyes were full of hurt anyway? He spent several minutes pacing his room, torn between apologising to Valery for his rudeness, confronting him about his obviously deliberate choice in trousers, or just staying (NOT hiding!) in his room for the rest of the evening.

And then, a knock came. Timid, quiet, barely even audible. Easy to pretend he hadn’t heard. And then a second knock, louder this time. Undeniable. He stopped pacing and stared at his door. He had to open it, there was no way he couldn’t. He opened the door, revealing Valery standing there dressed in nothing but a white undershirt and those stupid pants.

“Boris... may I come in?”

Boris cursed himself for his weakness, Valery looked vulnerable, pathetic even, and he was powerless against it. But they couldn’t have this discussion here, not with the hidden audience.

“No. Let’s... let’s go for a walk instead.”

Valery stepped back and let him enter the hallway, and they walked silently, side by side. Neither of them spoke until they were a few hundred meters from the hotel.

“Boris, I feel... have I upset you today?”

“Of course not. How could you have upset me? I don’t get emotional like you do.” Boris winced at the cruelty of it as soon as it came out of his mouth. 

“Oh. Oh... ok then. My apologies, Comrade Shcherbina. I won’t waste more of your time,” Valery said, his voice monotone and steady. He turned on his heel and began walking away, and Boris paused for a moment before cursing himself and catching up to Valery in two long strides, grabbing his arm to stop him.

“Why did you wear those trousers today Valery?”

“Why did I... what?”

“Those trousers. What were you trying to prove?”

“I don’t understand, Boris? What are you talking about?”

“For fuck’s sake man, you can’t tell me you’ve been walking around with your cock on show for everyone today without noticing! Why were you doing it? Why were you trying to get to me like that?”

Valery’s face went red and Boris’ certainty that Valery had been doing this deliberately started to falter. 

“I wasn’t... oh god, Boris, I didn’t...” he stammered, the blush reaching his ears now. “These were the only ones I had...” he said in a small voice.

“You’re telling me you wedged yourself in those things this morning and didn’t think about how you looked? How much of... yourself... you were putting on show for m... for everyone?”

“Well, I knew they were too small. Obviously. But I didn’t think anyone would be that interested in...”

“The soldiers noticed! I fucking noticed! I spent all day fucking noticing!”

Boris blanched. He didn’t mean to say that. It wasn’t true. And if it was, he didn’t mean it like... well, like that. Valery couldn’t possibly think he meant it...

“Oh. Uhh, ok. Well...”

Oh fuck. One slip of the tongue and Valery thinks he’s some kind of deviant pervert, and now he’ll have that hanging over his head every time Valery doesn’t get what he wants. Every time he gives Valery cause to be angry at him.

“Well... it’s... it’s ok. That you noticed, I mean. I’m... I like that you noticed.”

The last bit was barely a whisper and Valery’s cheeks flushed anew. Boris’ mind was empty. Had Valery really just said that? Really just welcomed his attention? Not that he was giving him any attention but...

“Well, I didn’t notice. I’m not like that. Don’t you dare suggest otherwise!” he growled and stalked off back to the hotel before Valery had a chance to react. Because of course he wasn’t like that, was he? How could he be? Men like that didn’t make it up the career ladder, they didn’t fight in wars, they didn’t fuck women and enjoy it. No, men like that were absolutely NOTHING like men like him. 

Except... was Valery... like that? Men who weren’t wouldn’t be happy to hear something like that, they certainly wouldn’t like it. Boris tried to imagine what his reaction would be if Valery had admitted to staring at his cock all day, then immediately stopped when a shock of excitement went through him instead of the expected (and hoped for) disgust. He was so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t noticed that he’d walked to Valery’s door and not his own.

He could have left. His own room was only a short distance down the hallway, after all. But he found himself rooted to the spot, and remained so until the elevator dinged and Valery emerged. They stood looking at each other, neither willing to make a move. Valery looked outright terrified. Which Boris could hardly blame him for, as far as he knew he’d accidentally outed himself to a senior party official and was one phone call away from doing hard labour in a gulag. But the way he was looking at him, as if Boris would hit him, it hurt. He didn’t want Valery to look at him like that, he needed him to stop, and before he truly realised what he was doing, he’d taken three purposeful strides towards him, grabbed his face, and shoved his tongue in his mouth.

There was absolutely no finesse to begin with, from either of them. Valery was too stunned to respond for several long seconds and Boris was too desperate to push through any apprehension or fear to pay much attention to technique but before long, they found their rhythm. Valery was surprisingly forceful, giving as good as he got, and Boris couldn’t stop himself from pushing Valery back against the elevator doors and grinding their hips together in response. The object of his thoughts all day was responding to the kiss, and Valery was bucking against him, seeking friction. One of his hands grasped Boris’ arse roughly and pushed him forward and Boris groaned into the kiss. He could feel his own cock growing hard, and when he felt it slide against Valery’s, he pulled back, gasping for breath. This was a man, this was Valery. 

“Valera...” he rasped, not quite sure what he was begging for.

“Please, Boria. Please tell me you want this, tell me you want me. Don’t run away from this,” Valery said, entwining his fingers in Boris’ silver hair, voice thick with emotion.

Boris couldn’t stop himself from capturing Valery’s lips again, it felt too good, too right. He was terrified, disgusted with himself, with Valery, but he had to keep going. Long buried thoughts and feelings from his youth flared to life and he relished the feeling of man beneath his hands, against his cock. He ran a hand down Valery’s front and wrestled his trousers open, the fabric now stretched to it’s absolute limits, and Valery gave a guttural moan of relief, another when Boris roughly shoved his trousers and briefs to his thighs and wrapped his hand around the impressive length. His hand barely fit around it, and for some reason that made him shudder with pure need. He stroked up the length of it, feeling the wetness gathering at the tip, wanting inexplicably to taste. Valery fumbled with Boris’ fly and pulled him out, his hand warm and sweaty and masculine. He bucked up into it, stroking Valery’s cock frantically in the hope he’d return the favour. All that mattered now was cumming and making Valery cum too. Valery rearranged them so their cocks were pressed to each other, wrapping their hands around them. The feel of Valery’s hard length against his own, Valery’s slickness on his palm easing the glide as they stroked in sync, it was all too much. Embarrassingly quickly, he felt his balls tighten and then he was thrusting against Valery, moaning into his mouth, clawing wildly at his back with his free hand, hot spurts of his cum slicking their fists further and Valery’s own impressive load joining his own, the feel of Valery pulsing against him drawing his own release out further.

He slid slowly from his high. His legs were weak and their hands were still joined around their softening cocks, dripping with their combined seed. He looked down at this undeniable evidence that he was at least somewhat one of those men. Valery’s cock did indeed have freckles, it seemed, and the tangle of hair around his cock was the same reddish colour of his hair. His curiosity was at least somewhat satisfied. And yet...

He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket with his clean hand and wiped up their mess, before tucking himself into his trousers as Valery followed suit. He could feel the nervous tension coming off the other man in waves, could see it in the way he kept his eyes glued to the floor. He could walk away now, he knew, and Valery would never speak of this again. He could go back to who he was before. But was that even possible? Valery could likely pretend this never happened, for both their sakes, but could he? No. He felt fundamentally changed now. His life had split into Before Valery and After Valery, perhaps long before today, and he couldn’t face going back. What would be the point? What would be gained?

“Come, Valera,” he said softly, grasping the other man’s shaking hand. “Come to my room.”

**Author's Note:**

> thegreenmeridian.tumblr.com


End file.
